- After All is Said and Done -
Part 1 : Going Home
By Tippy
- A/N: Well, the very kool author JERRIWILMORE was the first ever to do a Frodo/Elanor fic. I fell in love with this idea almost immediately, and the aforementioned JERRIWILMORE said that anyone could feel free to use that idea as well. So, first off, THANK YOU JERRIWILMORE! You RULE! Secondly...uhm, okay, I'm currently in the throes of finding a good song to accompany this fic. ;P Hmm...how about "Hero" by Enrique Iglesias? Ohoho! Perfect much! *dances around* Anyhoo. *koff*
Now, without much further ado...THE FIC!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The bright sun was high above the hills, and the air smelt sweet to Frodo's nose as he walked along. Crimson pimpernel and small violet periwinkles rustled against the hobbit's broad feet as he padded through a large meadow, his cousin Bilbo beside him.
The two hobbits were deep in conversation, and with the grave looks on both faces, one could see it was an important topic. Perhaps discussed many times before.
"...but I understand how you feel, Frodo my lad." Bilbo was saying. "Often my thoughts have strayed back to the Shire, and what is must be like now. Beautiful as it always has been, I think."
Frodo looked wistful as his sapphire eyes scanned the cornflower blue sky above him.
"Yes, even during the winter is was lovely. There was always some hidden snowy field or knoll to explore. Oh Bilbo, I long to be there now. The Westernesse is such a wonderful place to be, but more wonderful would it be to see the Shire again."
Bilbo nodded solemnly, then patted Frodo on the back.
"It would be quite splendid to be there, I've no doubt. Perhaps you could speak to Gandalf, and see if they will allow you to go back."
"And you too, of course, Bilbo."
Bilbo smiled sadly, and shook his head. "I am an old hobbit now, Frodo. And even though, when we arrived here in the Havens, we were restored to being not a day past thirty - I am old in *years*. I have seen much of the world, and I no longer desire to see any more of it. But you, Frodo, have much ahead. And so I urge you - speak to Gandalf. Go back, my dear boy, go back and have a *future*."
Frodo was silent as they continued walking, pondering Bilbo's words. Go back? But that might prove awkward. Frodo himself now looked to be just fresh out of his tweens, as the Havens had a way of giving one their youth back. Perhaps if he went back to Middle-earth, he would STILL be around thirty-four or so, and find all his friends to be old and grey.
And yet...
'I would dearly love to see them again', He thought, with a small smile touching his lips.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Gandalf studied the young, eager, dark-haired hobbit before him. The two stood on a grassy slope, which lead down into a fine, white sandy beach bordering the sea. A large, grey boat sat tied up at a dock, from which Frodo was to depart.
"Frodo, once again I must warn you, if you go back...then you most likely will not be able to return to the Havens."
"I know, Gandalf. But I am willing to risk it. I love it here, but moreso do I love the Shire! And the dear, silly hobbits inside of it." Frodo's chin was firm as he gazed up at Gandalf, his sapphire eyes piercing.
Gandalf gave a small nod.
"Alright then, Frodo. You realise that you will remain such as you are - barely out of your tweens - when you return to the Shire, do you not? You cannot 'resume' the age you were when you left Middle-earth for the first time. So you will find your friends far older then you are."
"This I know. And I am willing to accept it." Frodo looked grave, but as he turned to Bilbo there was a sad smile on his face. "Good-bye, Bilbo. I shall miss you, and will always remember you."
Bilbo nodded, his eyes tearing.
"And I too shall miss *you*, Frodo. Drogo and Primula would be proud, if they could see you now. Good luck, and may you find much happiness!" The two hobbits embraced, then Frodo pulled away, a silent tear trailing down his cheek.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Must it always rain?" Elanor Gamgee complained as she stood by the window, gazing out in the gloomy night.
"This *is* the rainy season, Ellie." Her younger brother Frodo stated, from his spot by the fire. "'Sides, what does it matter? Rain is good for crops, anyway."
"My coming-of-age party is in two days, though! If this keeps up, I'll have to hold the celebration *inside*..." Elanor replied, the firelight glinting off her curly, red-gold braided hair, which reached down to her mid-back.
"Oh, that's ALL we hear about." Pippin said, rolling his eyes. He was a smart lad of twenty-four, and was quite jealous that his older sister would soon be thirty-three...she would be an *adult*. Frodo wasn't too happy about it either, as he was but thirty-one.
"Well, it's important to me." Elanor replied, settling down in a large armchair near her brothers. The rain outside continued to fall, but the upside was that it made Bag End seem even cozier than usual. "Plus, there's going to be *boys*." Ellie added, delight dancing in her voice. "And lot's of them!"
"Well now, Elanorëlle! I didn't realise how caught up you are in marrying yourself off as quickly as possible!"
Sam's strong voice broke in as he entered the room with a mug of hot cider in hand, beaming 'round at his children. Goldilocks, Daisy, and Hamfast were the youngest, so they had been put to bed. Rose and Merry had gone down to Tuckburough to stay with some friends for several days, so the smial seemed rather empty, as of late.
"Oh, Sam-dad. You know I would never want to leave you!" Elanor laughed lightly, playing with the end of her braid.
Sam smiled gently, and smoothed his hand over his eldest daughter's fair hair.
"I know, Elanorëlle, I know." There was a slight pause, and Sam cast his warm, brown eyes towards the window. A slight frown appeared on his face. "My, it's raining hard. I wouldn't want to be caught in *that* weather tonight..."
Elanor glanced up at her father, realising how old he had become. His hair was partially the original dark brown, but now peppered with gray. Wrinkles creased around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth, and his hands were very tanned and leathery - from too many years of working in gardens.
The hobbit-girl sighed, grabbing her father's hand.
"Come now, Sam-dad. Don't get gloomy on us! Let us forget the foul weather. Perhaps you could tell us some stories, from the quest to destroy the Ring?"
Sam laughed merrily. "Ah, but I have told you those countless times! Are you sure you want to hear about it again?"
Pippin and Frodo looked up from where they sat, nodding eagerly.
"Yes!" Frodo exclaimed, brown eyes bright. "They're great tales! I wish *I* could do something that heroic--"
Suddenly, there was a loud knocking on the door.
Sam glanced up, looking troubled. "Now who could be knocking on our door at this hour?" He wondered aloud. "Elanorëlle, be a good lass and get the door, if you please."
Elanor nodded, and headed down the hallway towards the round, green entrance door. She grasped the handle and pulled it open, then let out a cry of surprise.
There, before her, stood a soaked, shivering hobbit about her age. His dark brown curls lay plastered against his forehead, dripping down into his pale face. His sapphire blue eyes gazed up at her dully, and almost unseeingly.
"Got caught...in the storm...don't feel so - so good...please, Sam... I need Sam..." The hobbit said, voice hoarse and shaking.
And with that, he promptly collapsed on the stoop.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- A/N: Muah! Part two up next! ;P (yeah, I know this fic is pretty lame-o. Wheee!)
Part 1 : Going Home
By Tippy
- A/N: Well, the very kool author JERRIWILMORE was the first ever to do a Frodo/Elanor fic. I fell in love with this idea almost immediately, and the aforementioned JERRIWILMORE said that anyone could feel free to use that idea as well. So, first off, THANK YOU JERRIWILMORE! You RULE! Secondly...uhm, okay, I'm currently in the throes of finding a good song to accompany this fic. ;P Hmm...how about "Hero" by Enrique Iglesias? Ohoho! Perfect much! *dances around* Anyhoo. *koff*
Now, without much further ado...THE FIC!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The bright sun was high above the hills, and the air smelt sweet to Frodo's nose as he walked along. Crimson pimpernel and small violet periwinkles rustled against the hobbit's broad feet as he padded through a large meadow, his cousin Bilbo beside him.
The two hobbits were deep in conversation, and with the grave looks on both faces, one could see it was an important topic. Perhaps discussed many times before.
"...but I understand how you feel, Frodo my lad." Bilbo was saying. "Often my thoughts have strayed back to the Shire, and what is must be like now. Beautiful as it always has been, I think."
Frodo looked wistful as his sapphire eyes scanned the cornflower blue sky above him.
"Yes, even during the winter is was lovely. There was always some hidden snowy field or knoll to explore. Oh Bilbo, I long to be there now. The Westernesse is such a wonderful place to be, but more wonderful would it be to see the Shire again."
Bilbo nodded solemnly, then patted Frodo on the back.
"It would be quite splendid to be there, I've no doubt. Perhaps you could speak to Gandalf, and see if they will allow you to go back."
"And you too, of course, Bilbo."
Bilbo smiled sadly, and shook his head. "I am an old hobbit now, Frodo. And even though, when we arrived here in the Havens, we were restored to being not a day past thirty - I am old in *years*. I have seen much of the world, and I no longer desire to see any more of it. But you, Frodo, have much ahead. And so I urge you - speak to Gandalf. Go back, my dear boy, go back and have a *future*."
Frodo was silent as they continued walking, pondering Bilbo's words. Go back? But that might prove awkward. Frodo himself now looked to be just fresh out of his tweens, as the Havens had a way of giving one their youth back. Perhaps if he went back to Middle-earth, he would STILL be around thirty-four or so, and find all his friends to be old and grey.
And yet...
'I would dearly love to see them again', He thought, with a small smile touching his lips.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Gandalf studied the young, eager, dark-haired hobbit before him. The two stood on a grassy slope, which lead down into a fine, white sandy beach bordering the sea. A large, grey boat sat tied up at a dock, from which Frodo was to depart.
"Frodo, once again I must warn you, if you go back...then you most likely will not be able to return to the Havens."
"I know, Gandalf. But I am willing to risk it. I love it here, but moreso do I love the Shire! And the dear, silly hobbits inside of it." Frodo's chin was firm as he gazed up at Gandalf, his sapphire eyes piercing.
Gandalf gave a small nod.
"Alright then, Frodo. You realise that you will remain such as you are - barely out of your tweens - when you return to the Shire, do you not? You cannot 'resume' the age you were when you left Middle-earth for the first time. So you will find your friends far older then you are."
"This I know. And I am willing to accept it." Frodo looked grave, but as he turned to Bilbo there was a sad smile on his face. "Good-bye, Bilbo. I shall miss you, and will always remember you."
Bilbo nodded, his eyes tearing.
"And I too shall miss *you*, Frodo. Drogo and Primula would be proud, if they could see you now. Good luck, and may you find much happiness!" The two hobbits embraced, then Frodo pulled away, a silent tear trailing down his cheek.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Must it always rain?" Elanor Gamgee complained as she stood by the window, gazing out in the gloomy night.
"This *is* the rainy season, Ellie." Her younger brother Frodo stated, from his spot by the fire. "'Sides, what does it matter? Rain is good for crops, anyway."
"My coming-of-age party is in two days, though! If this keeps up, I'll have to hold the celebration *inside*..." Elanor replied, the firelight glinting off her curly, red-gold braided hair, which reached down to her mid-back.
"Oh, that's ALL we hear about." Pippin said, rolling his eyes. He was a smart lad of twenty-four, and was quite jealous that his older sister would soon be thirty-three...she would be an *adult*. Frodo wasn't too happy about it either, as he was but thirty-one.
"Well, it's important to me." Elanor replied, settling down in a large armchair near her brothers. The rain outside continued to fall, but the upside was that it made Bag End seem even cozier than usual. "Plus, there's going to be *boys*." Ellie added, delight dancing in her voice. "And lot's of them!"
"Well now, Elanorëlle! I didn't realise how caught up you are in marrying yourself off as quickly as possible!"
Sam's strong voice broke in as he entered the room with a mug of hot cider in hand, beaming 'round at his children. Goldilocks, Daisy, and Hamfast were the youngest, so they had been put to bed. Rose and Merry had gone down to Tuckburough to stay with some friends for several days, so the smial seemed rather empty, as of late.
"Oh, Sam-dad. You know I would never want to leave you!" Elanor laughed lightly, playing with the end of her braid.
Sam smiled gently, and smoothed his hand over his eldest daughter's fair hair.
"I know, Elanorëlle, I know." There was a slight pause, and Sam cast his warm, brown eyes towards the window. A slight frown appeared on his face. "My, it's raining hard. I wouldn't want to be caught in *that* weather tonight..."
Elanor glanced up at her father, realising how old he had become. His hair was partially the original dark brown, but now peppered with gray. Wrinkles creased around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth, and his hands were very tanned and leathery - from too many years of working in gardens.
The hobbit-girl sighed, grabbing her father's hand.
"Come now, Sam-dad. Don't get gloomy on us! Let us forget the foul weather. Perhaps you could tell us some stories, from the quest to destroy the Ring?"
Sam laughed merrily. "Ah, but I have told you those countless times! Are you sure you want to hear about it again?"
Pippin and Frodo looked up from where they sat, nodding eagerly.
"Yes!" Frodo exclaimed, brown eyes bright. "They're great tales! I wish *I* could do something that heroic--"
Suddenly, there was a loud knocking on the door.
Sam glanced up, looking troubled. "Now who could be knocking on our door at this hour?" He wondered aloud. "Elanorëlle, be a good lass and get the door, if you please."
Elanor nodded, and headed down the hallway towards the round, green entrance door. She grasped the handle and pulled it open, then let out a cry of surprise.
There, before her, stood a soaked, shivering hobbit about her age. His dark brown curls lay plastered against his forehead, dripping down into his pale face. His sapphire blue eyes gazed up at her dully, and almost unseeingly.
"Got caught...in the storm...don't feel so - so good...please, Sam... I need Sam..." The hobbit said, voice hoarse and shaking.
And with that, he promptly collapsed on the stoop.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- A/N: Muah! Part two up next! ;P (yeah, I know this fic is pretty lame-o. Wheee!)